Through the Window
by bellawhitlock51
Summary: Edward Cullen is reclusive. When he isn't reading he's either avoiding his abusive father or watching the pretty brunette who lives next door through his window. Can the girl who is oblivious to his existence save him from his own personal hell?
1. Witnessed

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters. _**

**_A/N: _**_Abuse is NEVER okay. If you or someone you know is suffering from abuse, please tell someone. Get help._

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_February 3, 2010_

**BPOV**

The sound of my shoes slapping on the pavement was the only audible sound as I loped down Jefferson avenue that afternoon. I walk home everyday, but that day the silence seemed oddly eerie. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end, as if my body knew something wasn't right.

I slowed my walk in front of the old, decrepit house next to mine, digging through my bag for my house key. It was then that I heard it.

A loud crash boomed from the house next door, and I froze in front of it. I looked up at the house, seeing two figures fighting in an upstairs room. My first instinct was to run. Run into my house, call my father, and then wait for the cops to arrive next door.

I realized though that it was not my place to call the cops on my reclusive neighbors. So, I stood, frozen in place, staring up at the window.

I watched as one of the figures landed a punch right in the other person's stomach. They doubled over, clutching their abdomen as the other – who clearly had the upper hand since the other didn't seem to be fighting back– charged at them. I squeaked, concerned for the injured person, and the window must have been open because the two figures both froze and looked down at me.

I recognized one – the one who threw the punch – as Edward Masen Sr. He was always very polite, saying "hello" to me every morning. He was a well respected lawyer here in Forks. His eyes were wild and I felt a shiver travel down my spine. The other man I didn't know, but I assumed it was Edward Jr., Edward Sr.'s shut-in son.

I'd barely moved to Forks a few months prior, but I had heard from some students at Forks High that Edward never left the house. He used to, they said, until third grade when Mrs. Masen passed away and Edward Sr. decided to home school Edward. The girls had told me stories of how attractive he was as a child, saying he must be a _knock-out_ now if he had been that appealing at nine years old.

And _boy, _were they right. He was tall with messy bronze hair and bright green eyes that I could see, even from where I was standing. His eyes met mine and the look in them was a warning.

**EPOV**

Three loud bangs echoed as my father's hand connected with my locked bedroom door. "Open the fucking door, Edward! NOW! Before I rip the damned thing off the hinges!" His angry voice rumbled through the aforementioned door.

"Go the fuck away." I hissed.

"Don't you fucking talk to me like that! Open the damn door, Edward!"

I rolled my eyes, "Why should I? So you can use me as your punching bag? I think not."

He growled before roaring, "OPEN IT OR I'LL RIP IT OFF THE HINGES AND BEAT YOU WITH IT!"

And though I knew he wouldn't be able to beat me with the door, I opened it anyway. Stupid move, I know.

I was, of course, greeted with a smack to the face. This was normal in the Masen household. Ever since my mom passed, my dad has been volatile and abusive. He had been a good man at one point, when he still had my mom, but without her he was a wreck, and had been for the past eight years.

I let him continue. There was really no use in fighting him. He shouted and punched and broke the shit in my room. I opened my mouth to warn him about the girl next door...the girl who walks home at this time everyday. She would see him hitting me and that wouldn't be at all good for his reputation.

Before I could get any words out, he slammed his fist right into my stomach. The wind was knocked out of me and as I looked up, he was charging at me again.

He was literally about two inches away from me when we heard a gasp. We both turned to look out the window. Staring straight up at us was the girl I've watched walk to and from school everyday since she moved here. Her terrified eyes met mine, _Run, leave now, before he has a reason to hurt you, too, pretty girl, _I thought to her, wishing she was a mind reader. As if she knew exactly what I was thinking, she took off running toward her house.

"Now, look what you've done!" He shouted, "Now that stupid little girl is going to tell someone!"

I gaped, "How is it _my _fault that my father abuses me?" I hissed.

"You could've closed your curtains!"

"Oh, my bad. I didn't really have time to do so while you were BEATING THE EVER-LOVING SHIT OUT OF ME!" I snarled.

"Don't back talk me," he growled as he started at me again.

"Go the fuck away or I'll make damn sure that girl calls the cops on you." I warned, my voice low and full of venom.

He chuckled, "And how, exactly, are you planning to do so?"

"Why the hell would I tell you?"

He laughed, "Alright, Edward, I'll humor you today." and with that he turned and walked out of the room.

I shut the door and locked it before turning and flopping onto my bed.

How the fuck did I get in this situation?

My mom passed away when I was nine from Spanish Influenza. My mother, Elizabeth, was a photographer. She traveled all around the world, taking photos of anything and everything. In December eight years ago, she traveled to Madrid and she my father and I were contacted saying that, while there, she had contracted a rare, but very dangerous virus called the Spanish Influenza. My mother was in critical condition when my father and I finally arrived. They wouldn't allow us in to see her, "Meeses Masen ees cor-an-teen'd!" a nurse who spoke very little English told us. So, long story short, my mom died and we never even got a chance to say goodbye to her, other than from outside a locked door.

My father and I were devastated, naturally. But as I slowly started coping, he seemed to be getting worse. He was loud and would break things and I remember the exact day that I became scared of what my father had became.

I had just turned ten and it had been six months since my mom passed. I asked my father if I could have a birthday party. He gripped his hair and I feared he'd pull it out, he shouted, "Nothing will be celebrated in this house without your mother!"

I didn't understand and told him it didn't have to be at our house. He grabbed the lamp off of our end table and threw it against the wall. He was snarling obscenities and tossing things at walls. "Daddy, stop! Please!" my ten year old self cried.

He slowly turned to look at me and his eyes were murderous. I felt my stomach drop as he stalked toward me. "YOU!" he screamed, tears brimming in his eyes, "Elizabeth is gone and it's all your fault! You just _had _to have a picture of the 'pretty Spanish flowers.' That's where she contracted it! She's dead and you're the only one to blame!" and with that he pushed me down before storming away, dry sobs heaving from him.

Not only did that make me terrified of my father...it also made me feel responsible for my mother's death. I _did _ask her to take pictures of the flowers.

_**December 2002**_

_"Is there anything special you want me to take a picture of for you, baby?" she asked me, smiling. I always had a request. Kangaroos and camels in Australia, Times Square in New York. _

_"The pretty Spanish flowers, mommy! I wanna see the flowers!" I smiled my semi-toothless grin._

_"Flowers it is, Eddie." she beamed. _

_My father shook his head fondly, "Just the flowers, Ed? Not even bull-fighting or pretty senoritas?" _

_I shook my head, "Nope! Just flowers!"_

I miss those days. The ones where my father wasn't a fucking psycho.

I wish I could have him back.

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_Review and I'll post the next chapter!_

_~N~_


	2. Murderer?

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot. **

_Sorry it has been so long!_

_I was trying to make the chapters longer but I didn't succeed. _

_I didn't get a chance to read over this, so I hope it's good. I was in a hurry to get it out since I've made you all wait so long._

_Enjoy_

_~N~_

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**BPOV**

I slammed the door shut behind me. Although I knew I wasn't in any immediate danger, I was certain that if I had stayed watching, would've hurt me just as bad, if not worse than he did to his son.

I locked the front door and bolted up the stairs to my room. I sat on my bed, feeling antsy. Was Mr. Masen still hurting Edward? Would he get even more violent? Bring out a knife or some other kind of weapon? Hesitantly I walked to my window and peaked out the curtains. The curtains on the Masen house were open and I could see Edward glaring at the door. He huffed and ran his hands through his messy hair.

I thought about opening my window and tossing something at his to get his attention, but decided he didn't need me meddling in his business.

I closed the curtains and tried to get some of my French homework done.

"'Je n'ai pas un frere ou une soeur.'" I mumbled as I wrote. My life is obviously not usually interesting.

My name is Isabella Swan. I'm a seventeen year old junior at Forks High. I moved here to Forks when my mom decided to cougar around with some guy named Phil. See? Not at all interesting.

I awoke the next morning and got ready to go back to the purgatory that is FHS.

I locked the front door before turning to start my walk to school. My dad, Charlie, was already at work so I was the only home. Well, not the only one considering Edward Masen Sr. was leaning against the side of my house.

I'm sure I looked like a deer in headlights as I tried to inconspicuously move a few steps back. "C-can I help you, Mr. Masen?" I stuttered.

His eyes narrowed as he pushed off the wall and walked toward me. "Bella, is it? What you saw yesterday was a one-time thing. I was simply punishing my son. Nothing to worry over. Nothing to tell anyone about."

"It didn't look like nothing." I muttered.

"What was that?" he growled.

"I...I was just," I stumbled over my words, wishing life worked like those stupid "Chew it over with a Twix" commercials, "wondering what he did to deserve you treating him so harshly?"

"Nothing you should concern yourself with. He's not worth worrying about, Isabel."

"Isabell-A." I corrected.

He chuckled, rolling his eyes, "Like it matters." I almost laughed at how much he sounded like the bitch from my school, Lauren Mallory. "But anyways, Lizabella, if you tell anyone, there _will _be consequences."

"Okay, now you're just doing it on purpose, asshole." I blurted out before remember what the man in front of me was capable of.

"I'd advise you to watch your mouth, you little bitch. Just because your daddy's a cop doesn't mean anything." he snarled before storming toward his Mercedes and climbed in. I stood frozen as he drove off.

I saw movement in one of the windows of the Masen house and when I looked up, I saw the exquisite green eyes of Edward Jr.

He looked forlorn as he pressed his hand to the glass of the window and mouthed "I'm sorry."

I shook my head and smiled, "Not your fault." He returned my grin and waved his hand, as if shooing me. I grimaced, a bit hurt that he was sending me away, when he mouthed "Late."

I glanced at my watch and saw that I was already ten minutes late for English. I mouthed a quick "Thank you!" before running full speed ahead (well, as fast as _I _can run without falling on my face) toward Forks High.

School was mind-blowingly uneventful. But then again, I couldn't keep my mind off of Edward for long, so something might have happened and it just slipped under my radar.

When I turned the corner down my neighborhood I slowed my walk as always, although this time I already had my keys out. They would at least be enough to defend myself if Mr. Masen decided to make a reappearance.

I glanced up at the window of what I assumed was Edward's bedroom. Our eyes locked and a smile slid across his face. He waved and I returned the gesture quickly.

I was about to mouth some words to him like this morning when I saw a shadow creeping up behind him. I pointed frantically, hoping my expression conveyed my panic. It didn't and before I could blink, Edward's pretty bronze hair was being used to yank him away from the window. I screeched, scared for the boy I'd never even actually met.

Edward rushed back to the window, apparently having gotten the upper hand, and pushed it open. "GO!" he shouted at me pointing toward my house, "Lock all of your doors!" he yelled before Mr. Masen was grabbing him from behind.

"I'll get help!" I replied.

"No!" He said urgently through his grunts as he attempted to fight off his father, "Please don't just go inside and be safe." he panted.

"But-"

"GO!" he roared and with that I rushed toward my house.

I locked all three of the locks on our front door before rushing to lock our back door and all our windows.

I slumped on our living room couch, trying to calm my heart rate. I took deep breaths, thinking back over what just happened. I was about to take out my phone when three loud bangs echoed through my house.

"Open the fucking door!" Mr. Masen's voice boomed.

"Go away!" I yelled through the door.

"Open the door or I'll break it down!" he growled, still banging relentlessly on the door.

"I'll call the cops!" I threatened.

"You wouldn't dare."

I smiled, having found the chink in his armor. "Try me."

He chuckled, "No, no. I'm not doubting you. I'm saying that if you do, Edward's daily beatings will get a lot worse. I go easy on him now, all things considered. I could be hurting him with things that could do more permanent damage. Do you want that, Bella?"

I frowned, "Why would you do that? And to your own son!"

"I have nothing without my wife." Mr. Masen stated, "And the little fucker is the reason my Lizzy is dead!" I must admit, that frightened me a bit. Had Edward killed his own mother?

"So why not kill yourself," I suggested, feeling guilty. Would Edward really rather have both of his parents dead than be subjected to the pain of having an abusive father? I'd like to think he would. "instead of hurting Edward?"

He laughed humorlessly, "That would hardly be proper revenge." he said, "Lizzy would be very disappointed with me."

I frowned, "Fine. I won't call the cops...just don't hurt Edward. Please." I pleaded.

He twisted the doorknob, "Why do you care? You've never even met him."

"No one deserves to be hurt like that." I said.

"He _killed _my wife!" He thundered, "He deserves every blow I deliver!"

I swallowed hard. He killed his mother. What have I gotten myself into?

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_Next chapter should be up around the second or third week of March (hopefully!)_

_Review!_

_~N~_


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